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I bought 25 g of this Dan Cong during Tao Tea Leaf’s semi-annual sale at the beginning of 2016 and just cut open the bag a couple weeks ago. I steeped 5 g of leaf in a 120 ml teapot at 212F for 10, 12, 15, 18, 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 60, 90, and 240 seconds.

The first steep has aromas of honey, orchids, roses, and stonefruit. In the mouth, the roast predominates, although there are notes of honey, orchid, rose, nectarine, minerals, and wood. There’s no bitterness, although the end of the sip is drying. Baked bread and lichi become apparent on the second steep.

During the middle steeps, the roast and floral notes become more prominent and the fruit falls into the background. By steep six, minerals and grass begin to appear, a sign that the tea is fading. By the end of the session, it’s all minerals, roast, char, and walnut shells, with faint orchid notes in the background.

This tea had a beautiful start, but petered out quickly. If all the steeps had been like the first few, I would have rated it in the nineties, but as is, it’s in the mid eighties for me.

Any advice on how to get your Dan Congs to last longer?

When I first started getting into tea, I bought a lot of random things to discover what I liked. I relegated the teas that weren’t to my taste to the back of my cupboard and stored them in the hope that my palate would evolve to appreciate them. This has sometimes happened (roasted TGY, Wuyi oolongs, dragonwell, gyokuro) and sometimes not (Assam, lapsang souchong, sencha). The upshot is that I have a bunch of teas I’m not particularly fond of and that I feel obliged to finish.

This Dian Hong is one of those teas. It’s not objectively bad, but it is more malty than I’d like and doesn’t have many interesting background flavours. In its favour, the long, flat, fuzzy leaves are pretty. I followed my usual gongfu parameters (5 g, 120 ml, 195F, 10/12/15/18/20/25/30/40/50/60/90/120/240 seconds).

The first two steeps have notes of malt, tannins, caramel, and tomato vine, which is especially apparent in the aroma. Later steeps are still heavy on the malt, but the tomato morphs into an oakwood, earthy, and caramel finish reminiscent of scotch. These flavours last pretty much until the end of the session.

I’m sure there are many people who would enjoy this tea, especially in the morning. However, it isn’t really for me.

P.S.: I didn’t find chocolate, sweet potato, or the other flavours people have mentioned in this tea. I have no idea why, unless my 2015 batch has changed substantially with age.

Though it’s a very popular type of tea, this is the first Golden Monkey I’ve tried. I was put off by the profile, which I recall emphasizes malt, leather, tobacco, and other burly flavours. However, I picked up a pouch of this from Tao Tea Leaf in their Christmas 2015 sale, and am just getting around to it. I steeped 5 g of leaf in a 120 ml teapot at 195F for 10, 12, 15, 18, 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 60, 90, and 240 seconds.

The first couple steeps are a surprise, offering notes of milk chocolate, brown sugar, caramel, mild sweet potato, roasted almond, and wood. Combined with the fact that it has almost no astringency, this makes for a tasty brew! Malt starts to emerge in the third steep, but it doesn’t overpower the chocolate and other flavours. I do get hints of earth and leather in the last few steeps, but the chocolate doesn’t disappear.

Either this Golden Monkey is atypical, or my impressions of the type were way off. Though not the most complex tea in the world, its smoothness and chocolatey sweetness made me enjoy it much more than I thought I would. One tiny drawback is that the thin, wiry leaves fit perfectly through the holes in my gongfu teapot, regularly ending up in my cup. Still, this Golden Monkey was well worth holding onto.

I bought 50 g of this tea a couple years ago and am just finishing it now. Since the leaves were pretty broken up, I reduced the steep times to avoid excessive astringency. I steeped my remaining 6-7 g in a 120 ml teapot at 195F for 20, 20, 25, 25, 30, 30, 40, 50, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds.

The first steep offers notes of lilac, violet, and other flowers, combined with grass, butter, lavender, and vanilla. The florals become headier in steep two, and the vague butteriness turns into custard and cream. This tea also has the tangy profile associated with four seasons oolong.

In the next few steeps, the grassy and lavender flavours come to the forefront, and the tea starts losing some of its complexity. It never really gets astringent, but the vanilla and florals fade quickly, leaving a pleasant but unremarkable tea by the sixth steep.

At under $10 for two ounces, this was a nice daily drinker. I’d happily buy more of it if Zen Tea decides to carry it again.

This is another one from the tea archives. I used to dismiss Assams as a combination of malt and paint thinner, but the ones from Lochan Tea made my opinion a bit more nuanced. I steeped about 4.5 g of leaf in a 355 ml mug at 195F for 2:30, 4:00, and 6:00 minutes.

While the dominant note is malt, the first steep also has notes of honey, raisin, wood, hay, pencil shavings, pleasant sourness, and pine sap. Although some astringency is present, it isn’t overwhelming, and the liquor is pretty smooth. The flavours decrease in complexity over subsequent steepings and if I allow the tea to cool.

While I don’t think Assam teas will ever be my first choice, this one is surprisingly smooth and complex while also waking me up. Not bad for a tea from 2015!

I haven’t been around lately because I’m spending all my time dealing with business-related issues. Apparently, “Don’t put all your eggs in one basket” is good marketing advice that I should have heeded long ago. I probably won’t be buying much tea until I can get things back on track. At least this will give me a chance to tackle my stash!

I bought this tea three years ago, felt indifferent about it, and forgot it. One thing in its favour is that it’s very pretty. I steeped about 5 g of loose, fuzzy golden curls in a 120 ml porcelain teapot at 190F for 10, 12, 15, 18, 20, 25, 30, 40, 50, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds.

I don’t know if it’s because of age, but this tea starts out very gentle, with notes of cocoa, honey, hay, malt, rye bread, barley sugar, and tannins on the first steep. By steep three, the flavour is intensifying and the malt and hay are taking centre stage, which is not really the direction I want it to go. By steep six, the chocolate has almost disappeared and it’s a typical Dian Hong, heavy on the malt and tannins and a bit drying. Cruelly, the leaves still smell like rye bread and chocolate, though these flavours no longer make it into the cup.

This tea started out as a sweet cocoa treat, but quickly morphed into your typical Dian Hong. While this isn’t bad per se, it wasn’t what I was expecting, and I understand why it’s now so old.

This tea, which I’m finally finishing today, is from the 2016 harvest. It might not be the most refined dragonwell out there, but I really enjoyed it, especially when slurped from a mug while working. I brewed it Western style: about 4 g of leaf in a 355 ml mug for 1:20, 2:00, 3:00, 5:00, and 8:00 minutes.

The first steep has notes of chestnuts, beans, peas, Brussels sprouts, umami, and a hint of cherry. The chestnut sweetness is balanced nicely with the vegetal bite. I could have gone with a one-minute infusion, as the liquor was slightly astringent.

In the second steep, the cherry is more prominent, and, as another reviewer mentioned, has kind of a cough-syrup-like quality. This flavour profile persists over the next couple steeps. As one would expect, the final steep was a lot less nuanced and more vegetal.

This was a nice, easy-drinking dragonwell that had an extra something special due to the hint of cherry. I’d gladly purchase it again.

I bought this tea in early 2016. I’d only found the Dong Pian harvest of Four Seasons oolong in a few places, and wanted to see if it was different. ($20 for 75 g also sounded good.) And then, I let it sit—for two years.

I opened the vacuum-sealed package a couple weeks ago. The smaller-than-usual winter petals gave off a sweet, floral aroma. I steeped 6 g of leaf in a 120 ml teapot at 195F for 25, 20, 25, 30, 30, 30, 40, 50, 60, 90, 120, and 240 seconds.

The first steep has notes of orchids, other flowers, nuts, cream, and grass, and the second adds a touch of veggies, arugula, and citrus. The vegetal and floral notes dominate the next few steeps, and though the tea starts out sweet, it doesn’t stay this way for long. By steep six, it’s entirely green and vegetal. I steeped it out, but it was basically over by this point.

I’m not sure if the tea aged badly or whether it was short lived to begin with, but compared to other offerings from this company, it didn’t perform well. It’s a decent daily drinker, but I don’t think I’ll buy more.

I’m finishing up a 10 g sample of this tea from a couple years ago. Though I haven’t tried too many Sun Moon Lake teas, I always find their menthol/sassafras flavours fascinating. I steeped 5 g of leaf in a 120 ml porcelain teapot at 195F for 10, 12, 15, 18, 20, 25, 30, 40, 60, 90, and 120 seconds.

The long, dark, wiry leaves give off a typical sassafras and tingly menthol aroma. The first steep is mild and sweet, though with a bit of a bite in the aftertaste, and has flavours of malt, sassafras, menthol, and sweet potato. The menthol intensifies in steep two, and is joined by faint notes of chocolate, honey, and grass. The longer this tea is kept in the mouth, the more astringent it gets.

This tea just keeps getting sweeter with each steep, with that sassafras note remaining prominent. The flavours stay consistent until steep ten, when the Sun Moon Lake character gradually diminishes into malt, earth, and tannins.

Notwithstanding its astringency, this is an enjoyable SML. I’d love to see whether cold brewing would maximize the sweetness, and will consider getting more of this in the future.

I won this tea in a draw that Teavivre hosted about a year ago. It’ll be interesting to compare it to what I remember of the company’s 2016 She Qian Dragonwell, which is an earlier picking by a few days. I steeped 3 g of tea in a 120 ml teapot at 175F for 20, 40, 70, 120, 150, and 180 seconds.

The leaf is a vivid green, is mostly unbroken, and has ample white fuzz; the aroma in the teapot is of spinach and other veggies. The first steep has notes of spinach, peas, asparagus, chestnuts, cream, and umami. From what I can recall, it packs more of a punch than the She Qian. In the second steep, the chestnut and green notes are intensified and the tea has a touch of astringency. Subsequent steeps retain the nutty character, but get increasingly green and vegetal.

This is a high-quality, refreshing green tea that has more substance than its She Qian counterpart. I have over 20 g of this to finish, so I’ll be able to explore different preparation methods.